San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 75
CHAPTER LXXV.
Surgery on a Wounded Arm; Lü Meng in a White Robe Crosses the River.
At the sight of Kuan Yü falling from his charger, Ts‘ao Jên led his men out of the city to follow up with an attack, but Kuan P‘ing drove him off and escorted his father back to camp. There the arrow was extracted, but the head had been poisoned. The wound was deep, and the poison had penetrated to the bone. The right arm was discoloured and swollen and useless.
Kuan P‘ing consulted with the other leaders and proposed that, as fighting was impossible for the moment, they should withdraw to Chingchou, where his father’s wound could be treated. Having decided upon this, they went to see the wounded warrior.
“What have you come for?” asked Kuan Yü when they entered.
“Considering that you, Sir, have been wounded in the right arm, we fear the result of the excitement of battle. Moreover, you can hardly take part in a fight just now and we therefore propose that the army retire till you are recovered.”
Kuan Yü replied angrily, “I am on the point of taking the city, and if I succeed I must press forward to the capital, Hsütu, and destroy that brigand Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, so that the Hans may be restored to their own. Think you that I can vitiate the whole campaign because of a slight wound? Would you dishearten the army?”
Kuan P‘ing and his colleagues said no more, but somewhat unwillingly withdrew.
Seeing that their leader would not retire and the wound showed no signs of healing, the various captains enquired far and near for a good surgeon to attend their general.
One day a person arrived in a small ship and, having landed and come up to the gate of the camp, was led in to see Kuan P‘ing. The visitor wore a square-cut cap and a loose robe. In his hand he carried a small black bag. He said his name was Hua T‘o and he belonged to Ch‘iaochun. He had heard of the wound sustained by the famous hero and had come to heal it.
“Surely you must be the physician who treated Chou T‘ai,” said Kuan P‘ing.
“I am.”
Taking with him the other captains, Kuan P‘ing went in to see his father. He found him engaged in a game of wei-ch‘i, although his arm was very painful. But he kept up appearances so as not to discourage the men. When they told him that a physician had come, he consented to see him.
So Hua T‘o was introduced, asked to take a seat and, after the tea of ceremony, was shown the injured arm.
“This was caused by an arrow,” said the doctor. “There is some 'blackhead' poison in the wound, and it has penetrated to the bone. Unless the wound is soon treated the arm will become useless.”
“What do you propose to do?” asked Kuan.
“I know how to cure the wound, but I think you will be afraid of the remedy.”
“Am I likely to be afraid of that when I am not even afraid of death? Death is only a return home after all.”
Then Hua said, “This is what I shall do. In a private room I shall erect a post with a ring attached. I shall ask you, Sir, to insert your arm in the ring, and I shall bind it firmly to the post. Then I shall cover your head with a quilt so that you cannot see, and with a scalpel I shall open up the flesh right down to the bone. Then I shall scrape away the poison. This done, I shall dress the wound with a certain preparation, sew it up with a thread, and there will be no further trouble. But I think you may quail at the severity of the treatment."
Kuan Yü smiled. “It all sounds easy enough,” said he; “but why the post and the ring?”
Refreshments were then served, and after a few cups of wine the warrior extended his arm for the operation. With his other hand he went on with his game. Meanwhile the surgeon prepared his knife and called a lad to hold a basin beneath the limb.
“I am just going to cut; do not start,” said Hua T‘o.
“When I consented to undergo the treatment did you think I was like the generality of people, afraid of pain?”
The surgeon then performed the operation as he had predescribed. He found the bone much discoloured, but he scraped it clean. “Hsi, hsi,” went the knife over the surface, and all those near covered their eyes and turned pale. But Kuan Yü went on with his game, only drinking a cup of wine now and again, and his face betrayed no sign of pain. When the wound had been cleansed, sewn up and dressed, the patient stood up smiling and said, “This arm is now as good as it ever was; there is no pain. Indeed, Master Leech, you are a marvel.”
“I have spent my life in the art,” said Hua T‘o; “but I have never seen such a patient as you, Sir. You are the real marvel.”
Here as surgeons, there physicians, leeches boast their skill;
Bitter few are those that cure one when one’s really ill.
As for superhuman valour rivals Kuan had none,
So for holy touch in healing Hua T‘o stood alone.
When the cure was well advanced, Kuan Yü gave a fine banquet in honour of Hua T‘o and offered him a fee of a hundred taels. But he declined it. He had come to treat his patient from admiration of his great virtue and not for money.
“Noble Marquis, although your wound is cured you must be careful of your health, and especially avoid all excitement for a hundred days, when you will be as well as ever you were.”
Then Hua T‘o, having prepared dressings for the wound, took his leave, refusing fees to the very last.
Having captured Yü Chin and accomplished the death of P‘ang Tê, Kuan Yü became more famous and more fearinspiring through the whole country than even before. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao called together his advisers to help him decide upon what he should do.
Said Ts‘ao, “I must acknowledge this Kuan Yün-ch‘ang as the one man who, in skill and valour, overtops the whole world. Lately he has obtained possession of Chingchou and the district near it, and has so become very terrible. He is a tiger with wings added. P‘ang Tê is no more; Yü Chin is his prisoner; the armies of Wei have lost their morale; and if he led his armies here we should be helpless. I can only think of avoiding the peril by removal of the capital. What think you?”
“No; do not take that step,” said Ssŭma I, rising to reply. “Yü Chin and all the others you lost were victims of the flood and slain in battle. These losses do no harm at all to your great plan. The Suns and Lius are no longer friends since Kuan Yü has accomplished his desire. You may send a messenger into Wu to foment the quarrel and cause Sun Ch‘üan to send his armies to attack the army of Kuan Yü from the rear, promising that, when things are tranquil, you will reward Sun with a slice of Chiangnan. In this way you will relieve Fanch'êng.”
Here the Recorder Chiang Chi said, “Ssŭma I speaks well, and the messenger should lose no time. Do not move the capital or send an army.”
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao therefore did not carry out his first proposal. But he was sad at the loss of Yü Chin, and spoke of him affectionately. “Yü Chin had followed me faithfully for thirty years, and I did not think I was sending him into danger. P‘ang Tê was not on the same footing as he.”
It was necessary to send someone with the letters to Wu and also to find another leader willing to face Kuan Yü. Ts‘ao had not long to wait for the latter, as an officer stepped out from the ranks of those in waiting and offered himself. It was Hsü Huang.
His offer was accepted, and he was given five legions of veterans. Lü Chien was sent as his second, and the army marched to Yanglingp‘o, where they halted to see if any support was coming from the south-east.
Sun Ch'üan fell in with the scheme of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao as soon as he had read his letter. He at once prepared a reply for the messenger to take back, and then gathered his officers, civil and military, to consult. Chang Chao was the first speaker.
“We know Kuan Yü has captured one leader and slain another. This has added greatly to his fame and reputation. Ts‘ao was going to move the capital rather than risk an attack. We also know that Fanch'êng is in imminent danger. Ts‘ao has asked for our help, but when he has gained his end I doubt whether he will hold to his promise.”
Before Sun Ch'üan had replied they announced the arrival of Lü Mêng, who had come in a small ship from Luk‘ou with a special message. He was at once called in and asked what it was.
Said Lü, “The armies of Kuan Yü being absent at Fanch‘êng, the opportunity should be taken to attack Chingchou.”
“But I wish to attack Hsüchou in the north; what of this plan?” said Sun Ch'üan.
“It would be better to attack Chingchou, and so get control of the Long River (Yangtse Kiang.). Ts‘ao Ts‘ao is far away to the north and too occupied to regard the east. Hsüchou is weakly held and could be taken easily, but the lie of the land favours the use of an army rather than a navy. If you capture it, it will not be easy to hold, but once you hold Chingchou you can evolve other schemes.”
“Really, my desire was to attack Chingchou, but I wished to hear what you would say to the other plan. Now, Sir, make me a plan speedily and I will act upon it.”
So Lü Mêng took his leave and went back to Luk‘ou. But soon they heard that beacon towers were being erected at short distances all along the river, and that the Chingchou army was being put into most efficient condition.
“If this is so, it is hard to make a plan that will ensure success,” said Lü Mêng. “I have already advised my master to attack Chingchou, but I am unable to meet this complication.”
Therefore he made illness an excuse to stay at home, and sent to inform Sun Ch'üan, who was very distressed at the news.
Then said Lu Hsün, “The illness is feigned; he is quite well.”
“If you know that so well, go and see,” said Sun.
Away went Lu Hsün and speedily arrived at Luk‘ou, where he saw Lü Mêng, who indeed appeared to be in perfect health. Nor did his face bear any signs of recent illness.
“The marquis has sent me to enquire after your honourable complaint,” said Lu Hsün.
How distressed I am that the state of my wretched carcase has caused anyone the inconvenience of enquiring!” replied Lü Mêng.
“The marquis placed a very heavy responsibility on your shoulders, but you are not making the best use of the opportunity. However, what is the real origin of your distress?”
Lü sat gazing at his visitor a long time without replying.
“I have a little remedy,” said Lu Hsün. “Do you think I might use it?”
Lü dismissed the servants, and when the two were alone he said, “This remedy, my friend, please tell me what it is.' ”
“Your ailment is due simply to the efficiency of the Chingchou soldiers; and I know how to keep the beacons from flaring, and I can make the Chingchou defenders come to you with their hands tied. Would that cure you?”
“My friend, you speak as if you saw into my inmost heart. Pray unfold your good scheme.”
“Kuan Yü thinks himself too much of a hero for anyone to dare to face him, and his only anxiety is yourself. Now you must take advantage of this excuse you have made of illness actually to resign this post so that the farce may be kept up and another man be appointed. Let this man, your successor, humbly praise Kuan Yü till he becomes so conceited that he will withdraw all the troops from Chingchou to send them against Fanch'êng. When Chingchou is left undefended then is our chance, and the city will fall into our hands.”
“The plan seems most excellent,” said Lü Mêng.
Wherefore Lü Mêng’s malady waxed worse, so that he was confined to bed; and he gave Lu Hsün his letter of resignation to carry back to Sun Ch'üan. The messenger hastened back and explained the ruse to his master, who soon after issued a command for Lü Mêng to retire and attend to the recovery of his health.
But Lü Mêng came to Sun Ch'üan to discuss the matter of a successor. Sun Ch'üan said to him, “As to the appintment at Luk‘ou, you know Chou Yü recommended Lu Su, who in turn proposed you. Now you ought to be able to mention some other talented and well-known officer to succeed you.”
“If you choose a well-known man, Kuan Yü will certainly be on his guard against him. Now Lu Hsün is deep and farseeing, but he has no widespread fame. Hence no particular notice would be taken of his appointment and no countermeasures taken. So he is the most suitable person to send.”
“Sun Ch'üan agreed and thereupon promoted Lu Hsün to the rank of “General and Commander-in-chief of the Right,' and sent him to defend the port.
“I am very young,” said Lu Hsün, “and feel unequal to such a post.”
“Lü Mêng has proposed you, and you will not make any mistakes. Pray do not decline,” said Sun.
So the appointment was made, and Lu Hsün set out at once. When he had assumed charge of the cavalry, the infantry and the marines, he set about drawing up a letter to Kuan Yü, and he selected fine horses and beautiful silks and good wines and delicacies suitable for gifts to go with the letter. He sent all by the hand of a trusty messenger to Fanch‘êng.
The news of the change of command reached Kuan Yü when he lay ill from the effects of his wound and unable to conduct any military operations. Close upon the news came the letter and the gifts from Lu Hsün, and the bearer was called in to see the great warrior.
“Friend Sun was not very prudent when he made a general out of a mere scholar,” said Kuan, pointing to the messenger.
The messenger said, “General Lu sends this letter and some presents, which he hopes you will accept. He also sends his felicitations, and would rejoice if the two houses could become friends.”
Kuan Yü read the letter, which was couched in most modest language, and then threw back his head and laughed loud. He bade the attendants receive the various gifts, and sent the bearer away. The messenger forthwith returned to Luk‘ou and said the old warrior had seemed very gratified and would henceforward feel no anxiety that danger might threaten from their direction. Spies were sent out to report on proceedings, and they returned to say that half the troops had been sent to assist in the siege of Fanch'êng. That city was to be seriously assaulted as soon as Kuan Yü had recovered.
This news was promptly sent on to Sun Ch'üan, who at once called in Lü Mêng to decide upon the next move.
“Now is the favourable moment to get possession of Chingchou,” said Sun. “I propose to send you and my brother, Sun Chiao, to lead the army.”
This Sun Chiao was really only a cousin, as he was the second son of Sun Ch'üan’s uncle. His secondary name was Shu-ming.
But Lü Mêng objected. “My lord, if you think to employ me, then employ me only; if Shu-ming, then Shu-ming only. You cannot have forgotten that Chou Yü and Ch'êng P‘u were associate commanders, and although the final decision lay with Chou Yü, yet the other presumed upon his seniority and there was some unfriendliness between the two. All ended well because Ch'êng P‘u recognised the ability of his colleague and so supported him. I know I am not so clever as Chou Yü, but Shu-ming’s consanguinity will be a greater obstacle than mere length of service, and I fear he may not be wholly with me.”
Sun Ch'üan saw the force of the contention, and appointed Lü Mêng to sole command with Sun Chiao to help him in the commissariat. Lü Mêng thanked his lord for his commission, soon got his three legions together and assembled four score ships for the expedition.
He dressed a number of sailors in the plain costumes of ordinary merchants and put them on board to work his vessels. He concealed his veterans in the holds of the kolu ships (shallow-draught transports). He selected seven captains to serve under him and settled the order of their successive movements. The remainder of the forces was left with Sun Ch'üan as supports and reserves. Letters were also written to Ts‘ao Ts‘ao that he might co-operate by sending his army to attack Kuan Yü in the rear.
The sailors in plain dress navigated the ships to Hsünyangchiang as quickly as possible, and then crossed to the north bank. When the beacon-keepers came down to question them, the men of Wu said they were traders forced into the bank by contrary winds. And they offered gifts to the beacon-keepers, who accepted them and let the ships come to an anchor close to the shore.
At about the second watch the soldiers came out of hiding in the holds of the transports, suddenly fell upon the beaconkeepers and made them prisoners, officers and men. Next the signal for a general landing was given, and all the soldiers from the eighty ships went ashore. The guard stations were attacked, and all the men captured and carried off to the ships, not a man being allowed to escape. Then the whole force hurried off to Chingchou, having so far carried out their plans that no one knew of their coming.
Nearing Chingchou, Lü Mêng spoke kindly to his captives, and gave them gifts and comforted them in order to induce them to get the gates opened for him to enter the city. He won them over to his side, and they promised to aid him. They would show a flare as a signal that the gates were free. So they went in advance and arrived at the gates about midnight. They called the watch; and the wardens of the gate, recognising their voices, opened for them. Once within, they shouted and lit the flares. Immediately the men of Wu came in with a rush and were soon in possession.
The first order issued by Lü Mêng was to spare the people. Instant death should be the punishment for any murder or robbery. The various officials over the people were retained in their offices and continued their functions. Special guards were set over Kuan Yü's family dwelling, and none dared break open any other house. A messenger was sent with tidings to Sun Ch'üan.
One very wet day Lü Mêng, with a few horsemen as escort, was going round the walls and visiting the gates. One of the soldiers took from a passer-by his broad-brimmed hat and put it on over his helmet to keep his armour dry. Lü Mêng saw it, and the offender was seized. He was a fellow-villager of Lü Mêng’s, but that did not save him.
“You are an old acquaintance, but you knew my order; why did you disobey it?”
“I thought the rain would spoil my uniform, and I took the hat to protect it. I did not take it for my own advantage, but to protect official property. Spare me, O General, for the sake of our common dwelling-place.”
“I know you were protecting your armour, but still it was disobedience to the order against taking anything from the people.”
The soldier was beheaded, and his head exposed as & warning. But when all was over, Lü Mêng had the body buried decently and wept at the grave for the loss of his friend. Never after this was there the least laxity of discipline.
When Sun Ch'üan visited the city, Lü Mêng met him at the boundary and led him to the official residence, where he issued rewards and commendations. This done, he ordered P‘an Chün to take charge of the new possession. Yü Chin, who was in prison, was freed and sent back to his master. When the people had been comforted and the soldiers rewarded, there was a great banquet in honour of the success of the expedition.
Then said Sun Ch'üan to his general, “We have got this place, but now we want Kungan and Nanchün. How can we get them?”
Suddenly one Yü Fan started up and offered his services. “You will need neither bows nor arrows,” said he, “unless my little tongue is worn out. I can persuade Fu Shih-yen to surrender.”
“Friend Yü, how will you do it?” asked Sun Ch'üan.
“He and I are very old friends, ever since we were boys, and if I explain the matter to him I am sure he will come over to this side.”
So Yü Fan, with an escort, left quickly for Kungan, where his friend was in command.
Now when Fu heard of the capture of Chingchou he closed his gates. Yü Fan arrived, but was refused entrance. So he wrote a letter, attached it to an arrow and shot it over the city wall. A soldier A soldier picked it up and took it to his commander, who found therein much persuasion to surrender. Having read all this, he thought within himself, “I think I should do well, for the other day Kuan Yü was very bitter against me.”
Without further ado he bade the wardens open the gate, and his friend came in. After their greetings they talked of old times, and Yü Fan praised Sun Ch'üan’s magnanimity and liberality and greatness generally. So finally Fu Shih-yen decided to exchange masters and went away, taking with him his seal of office. He was presented to Sun Ch'üan, who reappointed him to the command of Kungan under its new lord. Lü Mêng thought the appointment imprudent while Kuan Yü was yet unconquered, and proposed instead to send him to Nanchün to induce his former colleague and fellow in disgrace to join him in desertion to the enemy. His advice was followed, and Fu was recalled.
“Go to Nanchün and win over Mi Fang, and I will reward you richly,” said Sun Ch'üan.
Fu Shih-yen accepted the mission and duly left for Nanchün.
Kungan’s defender failed when tried,
So Wang Fu’s words were justified.
For the events of the journey see the next chapter.